Dante's Purgatory / For Sis

"providence" /prov-i-dens/ Pronunciation Key - [prov-i-duhns]
–noun
1. (often initial capital letter) the foreseeing care and guidance of God or nature over the creatures of the earth.

It's been months leading up to tomorrow. I feel like I've been going from episode to episode, slowly but surely blowing through the material, with my sights always on tomorrow as a great moment. I waited the way I wait the week before my birthday, where I feel like I stare at a calender all week, hoping I develop radioactive vision that makes the days turn faster.

I'm on my way to Providence. Capital P. Off to the Brooklyn Coffee and Tea House. How appropriate. An otherwise nonchalant out-of-town "roadie" as I call them, really is meaning a great deal to me. I've got one hour to impress, 8 to 9, the "featured songwriter" for the night, playing for tips. It's like SPoT Coffee or Caz Coffee back in Buffalo all over again. Perfect strangers, with a critical ear ready to take sound in, are there only to be impressed, while John the troubador must step up his game and deliver...nothing other than himself.

My own songs. My first show in months where I am compelled and expected to play my own music. To turn my life into song again. To hand it out to people, like walking around a room full of people with empty bowls, holding a cauldron full of "Me" soup. The soup needs a little salt though.

A new city, a place that always seemed somewhat mysterious to me. I've yet to venture north of Connecticut, and I long to see the Colonial architecture, nature, and coastline that so much of that region is built around. What goes on in Rhode Island? It is a novelty that always peaked my imagination. The countless Farrelly brother movies set there also made me want to see it. And the name, Providence, guided by God, guided by wisdom. Me too.

So I'm going to Providence to gain providence. I'm going to Providence because I've spent the last few months playing music written by other people, running around trying to capture my inner-motown. Now, I re-center. Re-focus. Re-energize. Re-Me.

I go on a pilgrimage to a city that will soon be known to me for my own music. I go to get away from frustrating people and situations, from unrequited love. I go to touch lives by my own, to be touched by stories.

__________________________________________________

Happy birthday, Elicia
My ever-battle-ready sister
We're the same age now for 2 months
But we know who was born first

The way the music feels in the morning

I've been a writing machine
I feel more like a real person than ever

Don't you love the way music feels in the morning
"Belief is a beautiful armor / that makes for the heaviest sword"
I love prancing around my room at 6:30 am
Pretending to scream at the top of my lungs
Who needs coffee when sunlight and drums
Can jolt you?

I'm Johnny Cash today
I'm a little bit everyday
But clad in black
I wear his world well
I'd like to think it's more
Cash-a-la-carte
I don't take on his abusive side
And I certainly don't have a doll like June Carter by my side
But the depth, realism, and personal honesty...
Got it today.
Overt cheesiness, but unflappable confidence in it...
Check.
Tormented soul, always looking skyward...
Welcome.

There is so much of me I am willing to give.

My Eyes Burn.

I lay in a cooled cave
2 inches of Pine separating heavenly bliss
And hellish heat
My brown Oasis
Adorned with WWII memorabilia
Family photos (me in pink!)
Lovely books on wine
Egg-crated mattress
And enough pillows to get lost in
The stale, torrid air outside
unsuccessfully tries to suck out the Sweetness
From the cracks
to no avail

Rilke:
She who did not come, wasn't she determined
nonetheless to organize and decorate my heart?
If we had to exist to become the one we love,
what would the heart have to create?

Lovely joy left blank, perhaps you are
the center of all my labors and my loves.
If I've wept for you so much, it's because
I preferred you among so many outlined joys.
_____________________________________________________
I don't like feeling ignored
Brushed aside
A former-priority
And I won't have this thrown back in my face
For I know what I'd rather be doing every minute
And it hadn't changed one bit, no matter where I stood

"wasn't she determined
nonetheless to organize and decorate my heart?"
Someone, please, hang a curtain or two in there
Or at least a Seurat painting

I don't sleep anymore. I love the sunlight too much
That all I do is wait up all night to say good morning.

Just 'cause Jack Kerouac liked it, doesn't mean I can find my book at Strand Bookstore. Boo.

Found two books yesterday while out
Been craving them to be in my collection
Douglass Coupland at his finest
And first
Generation X:
Tales for an Accelerated Culture
Sheds so much light on my existence
And that of the those around me
Provides an immediate source of humor as well

The other
Cash: The Autobiography
by Johnny Cash
I immediately give to Veen on loan
I've read it recently
but lost my own copy
I see him a few hours later, and he's 50 pages in already
It will do that to you

what happened this week
i don't think i could ever say
oh the drink does dastardly things

notes from Friday;
honey you're killing me
the way you're spilling me
you're covering me from the thin air
you can face me like a stranger
loving you's been a deal-breaker
and at the same time, a dream-maker
is this what I get for letting you in?
There's no lonely like standing in Greenwich Village
When I know that you sleep and dream
Show me how you sleep so soundly
Do I disappoint you?

I am a more compelling player than you
I am a more demanding man than you

1,000 places to see before you die...

Called into work today. Hadn't been sleeping very much lately, and I needed the time to mend and be comfortable.

Personal recap.

I have another interview on Thursday for my potential promotion. It's at least a 6K a year raise, plus more vacation time and the like. More responsibility, more hours, but I'm excited for new opportunities. I should know next week, and I really am starting to feel good about the prospects. Compels me to go to graduate school.

Spent last night with Maria Lisa. The show was the best concert I've ever been to. The music took me on a journey into myself. It was so sensual, sexual, passionate, and raw. I could tell she really enjoyed it; she kept screaming out when the songs finished. Felt good to know she was having such a good night, with the job offer she got, the day spent wandering until I got off of work, then the show, and dinner afterwards on the upper east side, and drinks. It felt like I've known her for 50 years, I just felt so at ease with her across the table. I tend to get nervous around new people, and I checked my hesitation at the door for once.

Got home close to 2am, but stayed up till 3 or so. Sometimes the nights just don't end right away I guess.

Got up today, and not much has really transpired, but I feel so happy and confident and invigorated. I said goodbye to Maria Lisa, and then took a nap. When I woke, I feel like I have some clarity that was never really there.

I have been to the top of the mountain, and to those who know what I mean, you also know why that is so. I stayed there, enjoyed the view, like a tourist, like the sunrise at Machu Pichu, and now I'm on my merry way. No one, no matter how confused or hurt or cast aside I feel by them, can take my sunrise on Machu Pichu away. No one. Not even if I want them to.

That's two new tastes this weekend. One is the mountaintop, the other a confidence-booster. I can do this. I am still worthy.

Incepta Nova

So my weekend goes from low to high, to low to high, to low to high.

Friday was a busy day for me at work, but I scored two tickets to Damien Rice for tonight at Radio City Music Hall. I've never been, and I've never seen him before. Well worth the price, from what I've heard. We had a "party" that night, and by party, I mean Veen proclaiming that our house was to be filled with throngs of perfect strangers, attractive women, and the like. This was the place to be, apparently. So we went and bought booze with Jay (p.s. who lives with me now!), and bought all the other necessities. Then we all spent two hours cleaning, cooking, and getting ready, and then waited for people to come. 9, 9:30, 10, 10:30, no one. I started drinking some gin and tonic, and started to feel good. Finally, the first person arrived, Lauren, with her friend. The next person did not show until 11 or so, and that was about it.

The party wasn't really a bust though. I had a rough night on my end, I really hoped some people would have showed, but they didn't. But I did okay, even though Jay and I went through the entire bottle of gin. I woke up on Saturday at 8am, still feeling a bit drunk.

Still can't sleep in when I want to. I knew I had a busy Saturday night ahead of me, so I relaxed in the afternoon. I was hoping to rehearse with Adam, but he had some unforseen crap to deal with, so that was put on hold. Then, the Sabres game was on, and once again, high, low, high, low, big low... Their season is over. Finito. It's amazing, because I feel like we can't re-capture what we lost Saturday afternoon. I don't know if our city has another run in them ending in disappointment like this.

After the game, we went to my gig, Elliot and I both being in quiet funks. He's definitely trying to deal with some things, taking it head on, and I think it's healthy for him to do it that way. We have similar problems, and I started to see how all this "stuff" is present that was never there a year ago. We don't like feeling lonely, hurt, frustrated, and so on, and maybe we're going through a rough patch, but I think we both need to take a step back in our respective situations.

We get to the gig and meet up with Adam. Felt good to see him again, it had been at least a year since I last saw him or played with him. He was a trooper, but I could tell how frustrated he was that we could not rehearse. So we set up, and in the time before we played, we sat up in the front of the bar and went over songs. It wasn't perfect, but it wasn't terrible either.

The show was good, we got to play some old favorites of mine, songs I haven't sang in years. "Old love / leave me alone / Old love / Go on home" So therapeutic to sing the blues, to have a melody meet you in your frustration. The first set was low-key, playing for some older people, and then we took a break.

As we begin to start the next set, 20 or so women file into the bar, all wearing glow-in-the-dark purple necklaces, and shirts on that said "Bridal Squad." These ladies wanted to get down, get their drink on, and go nuts. So we started playing the songs that make the feet move, and they all like lost it. They were coming up on stage, dancing with me as I played, giving me some glowy-necklaces, screaming - it was almost frenzy. We keep playing, and then finally finish up, and as I step to walk off-stage, one of the girls in the bridal party grabs me by the hand, and leads me towards the back of the room. She says, "you have the most amazing voice...its totally hot" and then starts kissing me. I'm stone sober, sweating, tired, and making out with a perfect stranger. She kissed me like she was eating a peach, so forcefully opening and closing her mouth, and it felt really good to taste someone new. I pulled away though, I was caught off guard, and politely excused myself after I gave her my card.

Then we took Adam back to the train, and walked back with Jay and Elliot to pick up our stuff and head out. We get back, and I see Leah, the bartender, putting away her Yankee hat. I told her that we should do a shot in the hopes the Yankees finally beat the Mets on Sunday. So then we start talking, and I see that she lives right near my work, and goes to the games all the time. Then Leak mentioned she has tickets next week, and offers one with me to go with her. I had to tell her how into baseball I am, how I know Jason Giambi's on-base-percentage and other stupid stats, and how I just have to study the game when I'm watching, and I guess she's the same way. So we swapped numbers, and said goodnight.

On the way home, the 4 roommates all finally were together to talk for one of the first times since Jay moved in. Elliot gave me back my cell phone battery (which I made him hold onto so I would not use my phone and distract myself), and I had 4 messages, and a voicemail. Three of the messages were from the guys, giving me updates on the gig and stuff, and one was from my friend Jessica Carroll. I'm glad she's making the effort to be a part of my life now, and it felt really good to feel her reach out to me. I didn't check the voicemail until we started moving, and it was from that girl from the bridal party, apparently she wanted to meet up with me at another bar. She was annihilated, and it was just a stupid passing thing, so we continued home. We get home, I debrief the gig with Elliot, and finally get in bed at 3:30am. Goodnight.

Sunday, I get woken up by a message from Jessica again, and I asked her to call me later in the day. But I was still up. 8:22 am. I lay in bed, watching South Park and listening to music. Then Jay and I watch Meet the Press, and two Senators were on debating the Iraq war. It's all lost on me now, and when I hear discussion of it, it makes me upset and frustrated.

Then we went to Church, and the mass at St. Ephram's, despite its length, was one of the best masses I've ever been a part of. It was a celebration of the ordination of one of the Deacons at the Church, ordained the previous evening by the Bishop. The full choir was present with instrumentation, the same that had been there for Easter. They sang and played like heavenly hosts, and moved me to tears. The entire church was filled with such love and faith, that I could not help but close my eyes and thank God for putting me in that place.

The Gospel reading was about unity. Jesus tells God the Father that they are one, and how He longs for all of us to be one in Him and God the Father. The thing that struck me was when Jesus said that He knows that all of the people in this work are God's gift to Jesus, and how thankful Christ was for this gift. It was such a beautiful moment, and pleasant reminder, that I am loved, by so many around me. The people I know are tangible gifts from God, real and true presences of his love and generosity. We often lose touch with this, and take them for granted, or get angry or frustrated with them. However, the most important thing I took from it was that I am a gift for others, even God. If I want to touch someone's life, I am empowered to do so. I am expected to do so.

We left Mass, and then came back to do some final re-arranging around the house. It felt great to work alongside the rest of the guys, joke, and be merry. Vinny kept razzing me about the impromptu make-out at the bar last night, and Jay kept giving me his four-finger "finger" he learned from his 3 year-old sister. Elliot kept to himself, but still was around laughing and taking part in things.

Around 10:30 then, Maria Lisa showed up from Buffalo. Her train got in late, so she asked to crash at our place last night as well. I'm excited to spend more time with her, as she's always been someone I've wanted to really get to know. She had a job interview today, and then afterwards we're grabbing dinner, and going to the concert. It should be an amazing night out, and the weather is only making it more so.

That's my weekend, and I feel great having written it all out for myself. New song ideas, new people, new scents, new roommates, new tastes, new beginnings.

Two-fer Monday

i'm trying to run underwater
you're just out of reach for your own good
my career and my days
are starting to widen their gap as well

"I'm just putting myself in a position to be successful"
At the core of Nihilism is that very notion
Just making something a possibility
Is a cause for celebration
I don't think it's selling short either
It's an achievement to stand at the cusp of something great
To be on the verge of making your mark.

on the other hand, i feel like i'm falling
where i am at the mercy of what others want
of my affections,
my intentions,
my love,
my talents,
my advice
and everything is everything to me

i owe myself to be frank
to be clear
to expect reciprocated clarity
i will accompany this with a wince
because at the heart of nihilism
(not a fucking "screw the government" idea)
the notion of failure is a noble, but expected and accepted alternative.


i miss those days when the nights never ended
and i would sneak off and get lost in someone all night
wake up with the sunrise
and make breakfast for two

So the highlight of my day was when the poodle was getting humped by the golden retreiver...

spent my sunday walking
down near army base fort hamilton
dodging golf balls and little hispancic bike riders

sorting through a jam-packed weekend
with a someday-lawyer
or whatever he wants to do.
realized people take too many people
for granted
and granted
many people get taken
but the takers are where the truth lies
you can't live from one lie to the next
or at least live in dodging veracity
the granted will catch on

smelled pollen
felt wind
saw children
baseball
sun
parks
golf
old men running by us

i was born in the country
the first 5 years were spent on or around a beach
my own jungle book
pretending i was "seabiscuit" on the horse-swings
he was always the smaller horse
but his heart made him a champion
my competitive nature took root in these 5
sis and i battled long and hard
for our share of barney rubble
our favorite bottle to drink from
my spirit is always in the outdoors
i could feel it meeting up with old friends yesterday

the houses near the army base
resemble hobbit's homes
and for once i felt ive escaped the city's hold

i miss you, mom
the great leveler.

Staring at Grandpa's flag

I don't think if I tried, I could sleep in anymore. Been up since 8:30am, and now I'm wide-fucking-awake. The sun in my room is like a motherly nudge that always wakes me. My other room in this house was a cave, and I could be pitch dark in the highest noon. I don't feel as tired here, maybe my body responds to sun better.

I told Elliot that we're getting up to go for a long walk today, because these days are not able to be wasted anymore. Perfect weather, and territory to explore. 2pm, and we're outta here.

Chris, Carl, Dorian, Me, and Elliot are now the Funk Brothers of the New Millennium, an otherwise-offensive name, since no one compares to the unsung Funk Brothers of the days of Motown, but given our impromptu jam session last night, is more than warranted. Add DJ Scratch in at the end, and the circle is complete. If you missed it, I don't think we'll ever re-capture how raw and crazy and drunken and heroic and fantastic it was, but it was special, to say the very least. We raised enough money for Operation Smile that 3 children are going to have their cleft palettes repaired, and thats what the rock is all about.

I got out of bed to go watch my now-favorite movie, Sideways, and much to my dismay, the DVD is missing. I cannot describe my disappointment. Made me want to blog.

Sunday morning in my little front room are so relaxing and therapeutic, music can be as loud as it wants to be, I won't wake anyone. The sun keeps peering in, like some inquisitive neighbor. Just laying here with my wireless keyboard, staring at Grandpa's WWII flag on my wall.

Saturday

My red is so confident that he flashes trophies of war,
and Ribbons of euphoria
Orange is young, full of daring,
But its very unsteady for the first go round
My yellow in this case is not so mellow
In fact I’m trying to say it’s frightened like me
And all these emotions of mine keep holding me from,
Giving my life to a rainbow like you

But I'm bold, I’m bold as love,
Yeah I’m bold, I'm bold as love,
Just ask the axis
He knows everything.....

Something to chase after...

Some people have reared their heads
From my past
Old, old friends
Haven't heard them in years

I get the distinct impression
As they go on about someone who just broke their heart
That they're sorting through the people they knew
Felt safe with, aware with
And the thought "jesus, how is john?"
And undoubtedly, the first thing they ask
Is if I'm seeing someone
And I tell them no
And they then go on about their guy who decided
He had had enough with her
They lament breaking contact with me
But he would never let her speak with anyone
He was controlling and manipulative
And they are better for having been dumped, they say

They ask me about living in New York
They mention how wonderful it must be
How they want to go so badly
And most especially, to visit me.

I've written songs about these people
When they inspired me
I've bore my soul in verse and chorus
And not always with an agenda
To show them just how much they meant to me
But that's the Way Things Go around here

So I'm at a crossroads.
Do I let them in?
My personal life and career seem in such stagnant turmoil lately
A dose of home may be in order
They mention how I should move back home
But I can't think that way
I've already followed a woman once
At the expense of a year of my life
And my happiness

I am worthy of happiness
But I don't think my train ride today will supply it.
I'm not a dog
Even though I often beg like one

____________________________________________________


The most beautiful sunset.
Jay and mine last time together in WNY
Until he moves in
We talk about our love lives
And we laugh about our love lives
I make some comment about his sexuality
And he finds it that much more funny

I see a man ready to change lives in him
I see a spirit red hot with passion
I feel lucky to share that moment with him
The sun has indeed set on that part of our lives
There are no more Fredonias
No more small town ideals and invincibility

But the sun sets, and the light still lingers
It floats above the horizon
In a V
Like a smile
It seems we've parted ways with WNY
On good terms
The car ride home is uneventful
Because we'll have plenty more commutes together
And I know that
So I'll save my funniest lines
When we're tired and angry at the world
And we take "da N twain back to brookerin"

Thank you, Buffalo, again
For a wonderful few days
It felt well and good
To smile back yesterday.

To my "Anna"

My friend assures me "it's all or nothing"
I am not worried- I am not overly concerned
My friend implores me " for one time only,
make an exception." I am not worried
Wrap her up in a package of lies
Send her off to a coconut island
I am not worried - I am not overly concerned
with the status of my emotions
"oh", She says, "you're changing."
But we're always changing
It does not bother me to say

This isn't love
Because if you don't want to talk about it then it isn't love
and I guess I'm going to have to live with that
but, I'm sure there's something in a shade of gray
or something in between
and I can always change my name if that's what you mean

My friend assures me "it's all or nothing"
But I am not really worried
I am not overly concerned
You try to tell your self the things you try to tell yourself to make
yourself forget
to make yourself forget
I am not worried

"If it's love" she said, "then we're gonna have to think about the
consequences"
She can't stop shaking and I can't stop touching her and this time

The kindness falls like rain
It washes her away and Anna begins to change her mind
"these seconds when I'm shaking leave me shuddering
for days" she says.
And I'm not ready for this sort of thing

But I'm not gonna break
And I'm not going to worry about it anymore
I'm not gonna bend. And I'm not gonna break and
I'm not gonna worry about it anymore

It seems like I should say "as long as this is love..."
But it's not all that easy so maybe I should
snap her up in a butterfly net-
Pin her down on a photograph album
I am not worried
I've done this sort of thing before

But then I start to think about the consequences
Because I don't get no sleep in a quiet room and this time

The kindness falls like rain
It washes me away and Anna begins to change my mind
And every time she sneezes I believe it's love
and oh lord, I'm not ready for this sort of thing

She's talking in her sleep-it's keeping me awake
And Anna begins to toss and turn
And every word is nonsense but I understand and and
oh lord. I'm not ready for this sort of thing

Her kindness bangs a gong
It's moving me along and Anna begins to fade away
It's chasing me away.
She dissappears, and oh lord I'm not ready for this sort of thing

Gonna give it til you can't say no

Two more days.
I will be free to trapse about the village
in two more days.
Working Friday night at Wicked Willy's
Playing there Saturday night.
Train home Sunday.
Hockey game with A, et al.
TV show next Monday.
Train back Tuesday.
Second TV show airs Tuesday.

Kenny's Castaways on Bleeker tonight to see Ricky play.

It's funny how a wink can get my day going in the right direction.
Monotony turns into desire.
Routine becomes fiery.
Back in the saddle, indeed.
Maybe she'll turn up on Saturday, maybe not.
Maybe I'll turn up at hers.

After changes upon changes
We are more or less the same
Lie-lah-lie

The Song (which will always have a capital T and S)
is coming along better than expected
The chords are running circles, engulfing me.
So simple, yet no one could do this.
I feel I'm ready to outdo myself.
_______________________________________________

What good is a life, with no one to share
The light of the moon, the honor of a swear
We can try to live the way in which you speak,
Taste the milk of your mother earth's love,
Spread the word of consciences you see,
We are everything we need

And someday when you're lonely
Someday after all this bliss
Somewhere lost in emptiness,
I hope you find this gift.
I hope you find this gift.

Lindsay Martin

I heard from Lindsay Martin today. That little girl with so much sass has a way of making me feel real. What started as a passing hi in my classes at Fredonia senior year, slowly became a friendship and relationship that has been so precious to me.

She goes on and on and on about music. Bands I've never heard of. But she speaks about them like they are these demi-gods, forged out of the fire to live forever on the Mount of Rock. It's hysterical and charming, all at once. Endearing, too.

I'm allowed to be a nerd around her, a perv, an asshole, or whatever I want. We swap personal sex stories like its a "hows the weather" conversation. When she gets excited, her hair bobs up and down, and her eyes get all huge. It's great. You have to see this.

And, her rings. I wasn't ever going to mention them, but they are the strangest, most intruiging rings on a woman's hand I've yet to see. Having said that, they're not gaudy, in a Long-Island-Latina-too-many-fucking-rings way, they're very appropriate. I was about to ask about them when I first met her, when she said "You know, guys always ask about my rings. They think they're trying to show me they're attentive, I know they just want some ass." So I never asked, even though my intentions were from curiosity.

Hearing her talk about her father, the struggles and fights with her mom, her passion for women's rights and feminism, and her love of music and the outdoors, its like she speaks as if no one has ever spoken about them before. It puts me at ease, it makes me feel real.

She sent me a care package when I moved here, fully equipped with everything from the dollar store, like bathroom mats, spices, candles, tea, and so on. I still have most of it, in fact I think we keep using all those things, who knew? Well, everything but the butterfly toilet seat cover.

I could go on and on, but Lindsay Martin is one of those people you just need around, in the fray, always available to tell the inside joke to, give a hug, or vent with. Man it feels good to hear from her.

May need to kidnap that girl this summer for a few weeks...